


It's Always The Quiet Ones

by Mouse9



Series: Don't Complicate It [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Molly Hooper/Sherlock Holmes (mentioned) - Freeform, Molly has questions, conversations in the lab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 15:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: If Greg thinks everyone had a go at his dalliances with Irene Adler, he's wrong.Molly Hooper has questions and it's his own fault for walking into the lab, the perfect place for Molly to host a little interrogation of her own.





	It's Always The Quiet Ones

It was still early when Greg stepped in through the lab doors, both hands carrying a to-go cup of still piping coffee from the bakery across the road.  Molly, who was putting on her lab coat, peeked out from around the corner of her office. Her face broke out into a smile when she spied Greg and involuntary her gaze drifted past him towards the doors. 

 

Greg stifled a choked snicker when he spied the movement. 

 

“Morning.  Just me Molls.  Am I too early?”

 

“Morning Greg, No, no, you aren’t early.”  Another glance towards the door and she stepped out of her office and further into the lab area.  “And yes, I know, Sherlock Holmes doesn’t get up for anyone before 9 am.”

 

That tone in her voice sounded a bit too personal, and it was much too early in the morning to step into that box.  Clearing his throat, he handed over one of the two  to-go cups to her. She took it gratefully and sipped it carefully as they allowed the silence of the lab to reign for a moment.

 

“That’s lovely.  Thank you.” Taking one more sip, she leaned her hip against the closest metal table and kept her wrapped hands around the insulated cup as if warming her fingers. Brown eyes watched him thoughtfully.  “What brings you out here?”

 

“The lab results on the fabric and particulates we found on old Mr. Turner?”  he prompted. 

 

“Oh,  right.  Mr. Turner.”  Molly  trailed off, studying him curiously.  At the head tilt and the quick, yet noticeable to him eye drop, his own eyes rolled. 

 

“Sherlock told you, didn’t  he. ”

 

The bite of her lower lip that poorly hid a grin and the mirth in her eyes told him exactly what he needed to know.  His hands went to his hips, pushing his suit jacket out of the way and Molly’s grin ratchet up a notch. 

 

“Oh for…”

 

“Sorry,”  her gaze averted to her coffee for a moment, before slyly lifted back up to him.  “I… didn’t think you were into ropes and bondage.”

 

“Molly!”  His face turned red as a giggle slipped from between her lips. Eyes narrowed as if in deep concentration, reminding him unnervingly a bit like Sherlock.

 

“I’m curious, who’s in charge? Does she make you call her  ma’am ?”

 

“That’s it.”  He turned to walk out as her giggles turned into a full-blown laugh. 

 

“No, Greg, stop.  I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.  I knew I shouldn’t but… it’s odd.”

 

Her laughter slowed into something soft and awkward.  It caught his attention, and he turned back to her.

 

“Although, I’m one to talk about odd relationships, aren’t I?”

 

He took a step back towards her.

 

“You’re worried.”

 

Her gaze shot up to him.  With an embarrassed twist of her lips, she shrugged.

 

“Not worried, per se.  It’s…” she sighed, leaning further against the table.  “I knew she wasn’t dead. The body that conveniently ended up on my table those years back was too carefully defiled.  The face, the fingertips… everything that could have been an identifying factor taken out so the only way to identify her was… well, how she was identified.   She ’s managed to re-infiltrate our little circle again.  Sherlock said he’s spoken with her, that it was your phone and he’s assured me that there is no longer any mutual fascination between them, other than the appreciation of a keen mind.” 

 

The slight redness of her cheeks told him a very basic story of how he impressed that particular bit of information on her in a way that she would believe him.   Stepping closer, he reached out and cupped a hand under one of her elbows. 

 

“It’s still early,”  he suggested, as he nudged her away from the table.  “Let’s finish our coffee in your office and talk.”

 

Nodding, she turned and led him into the small room just off the main lab. 

 

“I’ll have to leave the door open so I can listen for anyone coming in,”  she explained as she pulled her chair out from behind the desk and situated it beside the guest chair.

 

“You have a concern.”  He was gentle yet direct not worrying about Molly taking offence.  The women had brushed off so many offences, it was old hat by now. She took her seat and another sip of her coffee before looking up at him once more  as he sat beside her.

 

“Several actually. How well do you know her?”  she asked, bluntly. “Outside the few interactions you may have had with her when she was in London the first time, how well do you truly know her?”

 

“Tell me what you’re actually worried about.”  He pressed back. Molly frowned, the crease between her brow deepening. 

 

“I don’t want you being used.”  She admitted. “She used Sherlock.  Well, technically they used each other, but there was using involved. He understood the game.  Maybe not right away but…”

 

“Y ou think I don’t.”  Greg clarified, feeling more than a little hurt that she thought so little about him.  “That I’m too stupid to realize she’s using me for something.”

 

Molly eyes widened in horror.  “No! Oh God, no, Greg, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that at all!”  Putting her cup on her desk, she laid a hand on his arm. 

“Please don’t think that. You’re one of the smartest men in my circle and that’s saying a lot. But she’s clever and manipulative and…”

 

“And is that your personal interpretation because she caught the attention of Sherlock at one time, or is this coming from eyewitness accounts or what Sherlock has told you.” He cut off her speech directly, leaning forward in the chair and studying her. 

 

She paled and her gaze skittered around the room as she grabbed her cup and held it tight in her hands on her lap, staring down at it. 

 

“I read John’s blog, I saw the body.  Like it or not, I had a front-row seat for the Sherlock and Irene show that year.  Not as much as John but more than you. Enough to know that everyone was thrown off balance because apparently, that was the first time Sherlock had shown any genuine reaction to a person flirting with him.”  She looked up at him and the tightness around her eyes told him that was still a sore point with her, that she wasn’t the first one to catch his attention in that way.

 

“I’m not saying you’re stupid or easy to manipulate. What I’m saying is if she can confound Sherlock to the point of almost setting off an international incident, what chance do any of us have around her?”

 

Greg reached out and plucked the cup from her hand, placing it on the floor before taking her hands.  There was a residual warmth from the heat of the coffee cup but her hands were rapidly cooling and he couldn’t help wonder if her hands were always cold. Her nose twitched but her eyes remained on his.

 

“Molls, look. The truth is...”  he paused here for a moment dropping her hands as he leaned back in thought.  What was the truth? Molly was right, how well did he know the woman? Granted they had an amazing sex life, but that’s all it was, right?  Were they both merely on the pull?

 

“The truth is, I’ve no idea.,”  he finally admitted with a shrug.  “It was a chance meeting that spiralled into something else, something bigger and now…”  he paused once more, trying to think of the correct words to use. “Now, it is what it is.  And what it is is sex.”

 

Molly’s lips twitched upward, her eyes crinkling a little. 

 

“Just sex.”  She repeated.  He nodded. 

 

“Greg, she was calling your phone to tell you she was picking up dinner.”

 

“People have to eat before a sex marathon.”  He answered with a grin, trying to alleviate the mood. Molly giggled, shoulders shaking.

 

“You’re ridiculous.”  She finally gasped. 

 

His grin faded as she stopped giggling.

 

“Do you think she's using me?”  he asked, the words coming out before he could even formulate the thoughts.  Molly inadvertently had stumbled and gave voice to a hidden worry of his. Something that had been circling in his mind since he and Irene met that one night at the bar, dancing around each other at the pool table that culminated with reckless sex in the back of his issued car.

 

Because there was that small worry.   Irene had been with Sherlock. Brief as it was she’d never denied it, only denied that there was anything happening at the moment.  If she found Sherlock stimulating, then what the hell was she doing with a guy like him?

 

Molly’s smile faded as well, and she studied him.

 

“I… I don’t know.”  She admitted. “I hope not.  I really hope that it’s exactly what you say, that there is some sort of attraction between the two of you.  It may be a shot in the dark, with you two going hot for weeks or months before dying down and fading away, you both going your separate ways.  Or it might be something that takes you both by surprise and then I might have  to really deal with my issues of jealousy and inadequacy because she’ll become a true part of our circle.”

 

Greg laughed.  “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that Molly.  It’s just a thing. An itch we both need scratching.”

 

“And Sherlock was never supposed to be enamoured with a dominatrix and I was never supposed to get the posh boy at the end.”  She stated. His laughter cut off. 

 

“You don’t really think that, do you?”

 

Molly’s lips twisted.  “We’re not talking about me.  The point is, I want you to be safe, Greg.  I want you to be happy.” She took a deep breath and laid a reassuring hand on his arm.  again

“If Irene makes you happy, ignore everyone, including Mycroft, whom I’m sure has already made an appearance to warn you off.  Have all the kinky sex with The Woman... Irene. But … be smarter than Sherlock and think with  your  brain.  She poked his forehead with an extended finger to drive home her point. “If something seems sketchy, it probably is.”

 

She picked up her coffee and stood up, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, signalling the end of the interrogation. 

 

“Off the record, friend to friend, not doctor to detective.  If she does anything to hurt you, they’ll never find a body this time.”

 

He snickered but the business like look in her eyes cut it off. 

 

“You’re not taking the piss, are you?”

 

One eyebrow raised, she slid her gaze towards the floor where he knew the morgue was, before lifting her eyes back to him and raising an eyebrow.

 

“Jeez, Moll.  I’m not sure if I should be grateful to have a friend like you or a little nervous.”

 

Molly merely smiled before taking a drink from her coffee. 

 

“Let me get you Mr. Turner’s results, okay?”

 

He watched her walk back out into the lab and wondered briefly, if Irene really understood what she was getting herself into, associating by proxy with this group.


End file.
